


Lupercalia

by mayghaen17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood and Violence, Bloodplay, Dark, Draco is a turncoat, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Forced Submission, Humiliation, Martyrdom, Multi, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Secret Relationship, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Torture, Truth Serum, dramione - Freeform, lust potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayghaen17/pseuds/mayghaen17
Summary: Voldemort won and now revels are considered a fate worse than death. Word of an ultimate Revel has surfaced, the preface for a ritual that will grant the Dark Lord the use of ancient magic. Hermione's plan to stop him requires Draco's help, but will the retribution be worth the sacrifice?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	1. The Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha love to honeysweetcutie / forever unbeta'd
> 
> Fancast for Tom Riddle is Tom Hughes
> 
> Heed those warnings and no, this will not have a happy ending.
> 
> You can join me over on FB if you'd like to connect more! madrose_writing

**The Ritual**

Hermione always knew when he arrived. She always felt the shift in the wards, heard the _crack_ of Apparition outside the windows. Those were true of anyone that came to headquarters, but when it was _him_ , she felt it in her bones. This time, her heart skipped a beat as her breath hitched. He was two weeks ahead of schedule. Whatever it was that brought him here tonight, it wasn't good.

She hooked her finger over the page and closed the book around it, peering through the darkness as she heard the Order members walk into the kitchen. There weren't any doors to close them off like there were at Grimmauld, but no one was expecting her to be there. So no one put up wards to silence them off as _he_ joined them in the kitchen to deliver his report.

Hermione shrank back into her chair, holding her breath as she wandlessly enhanced her hearing so she wouldn't miss a word.

"Draco, your visit is unexpected," Kingsley said.

"This news couldn't wait."

"What is it?" Arthur asked, his voice more tired than she had ever heard it.

"The Dark Lord has ordered large raids on Muggles. He has given permission to bring as many of them to him. Men, women, children; anyone."

"What for?" McGonagall asked, voice laden with worry.

There was a moment of pause before Draco gave his answer. "The ultimate Revel."

Hermione shuddered hard enough she thought the chair might rattle and give her away. Her mouth went dry and her empty hand gripped the arm of the chair until her knuckles turned white. Since Voldemort's victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, Revels had become a staple. Something everyone had agreed was a fate worse than death.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Lupercalia," Draco said. Hermione's brain went into overdrive trying to place the word. "An ancient fertility ritual from the Romans. He plans to bring it back and put his own twist. It will take place on February fifteenth as it did then. Complete with a sacrifice. He's searching for the perfect person in the hopes of awakening ancient magic."

Kingsley muttered a stream of curses under his breath, Arthur sighed and sank into a chair at the table, and McGonagall gasped in horror and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"We have time to stop this madness," McGonagall said at last.

Two months to the day.

"If they're going after Muggles, we'll never be able to save them all," Kingsley said, his voice grim. "What do you know of the day the ritual will take place? We can infiltrate."

"He plans on taking the sacrifice as his personal consort for the evening. Typically he only makes an appearance to commence them. He never participates publicly."

The moment he finished speaking, Hermione was on her feet, plan formulating in her mind. Draco's gaze met hers in the darkness and his grey eyes hardened as she stepped forward, knowing and disapproving of what he knew she was going to suggest.

"What if we infiltrate by giving him the ultimate sacrifice?" she asked.

The three elders of the Order jumped at the sound of her voice and stared at her in awe. She kept her gaze locked with Draco's, watching as his jaw tensed and he shifted his stance, no longer looking indifferent. "No."

"He would never be able to-"

"No," he repeated, narrowing his eyes at her. "You're not going anywhere near the Revel."

"You've told me plenty of times that he refers to me as Potter's Mudblood and constantly imagines scenarios of what he would do if he had me." She took a deep breath and gave the smallest of shrugs. "I would be his perfect sacrifice. And you said so yourself; he entertains his consorts privately. That means we would be alone. The perfect opportunity to take him out."

"He still has Horcruxes," McGonagall said, her voice clipped.

Hermione nodded and finally broke her gaze with Draco to look at her idol. "Yes, but if we can destroy his physical body, it would diminish his reign like it did last time. Now that we know about the Horcruxes, we can go after them and take them out. We can prevent him from coming back."

Silence settled the room, an awkward tension filled the space between.

"This is too good an opportunity to pass up," she insisted. "And name one other witch who would be able to pull this off?"

"He'd be happy to kill you, no doubt about that, Granger, but you're a Mudblood. He would never touch you."

The venom in Draco's voice made her tremble with anger. He hadn't said that word or meant it in a long time. She knew he was trying to deter her. That when the meeting was over, she should expect quite the row. "This is the Dark Lord we're talking about," she said, unwilling to waver. "He's the most depraved of them all, Draco. When I'm presented to him, the idea of killing me will get him so worked up, he won't care how filthy my blood is."

"Hermione, this…" McGonagall started, her hand reaching out tentatively for hers. "This is dangerous. Draco's right; your status-"

"Will be exactly what makes me the ideal choice." She looked around at the room at the four of them, her eyes landing on Draco last. "I can do this."

"It won't just be the two of you," Draco said after a moment. "He usually has others in the room with him, watching, ready to fetch whatever he requires."

"Who is it?" she asked.

"One of his most trusted," he replied. "He rotates us, tells us it's an honor." He reached up to rub at his chin. "Sometimes he demands… _participation_."

Hermione's throat tightened as she forced herself to swallow down her fear. "Has he announced who will be his witness this time?"

Something flickered in his eyes that made Hermione's stomach flutter with nerves, but he clamped down on his emotions and carded a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice cold. "Because you aren't going."

"Draco-"

"No!" he snapped, stepped closer to her, disregarding the three elders in the room. After a moment, he hissed in pain and clutched at his arm. "That's final, Granger," he warned, looking at the other three. "I'll be back in a day or two. We can discuss other options then," he said, pulling at the lapels on his suit jacket before turning towards the door and moving towards it.

Hermione watched it slam behind him and waited half a second before taking off after him. "Draco!" she yelled, stopping him in his tracks.

"Get back inside, Granger. This isn't up for discussion."

"This is the best plan."

He whirled around on her, grabbing her by the throat. "If I have to Obliviate or Imperio you, so help me, I fucking will." He hissed again and she felt his tremors of pain as he tightened his hold on her. "I have to go," he said, his hand sliding back into her hair.

She nodded and let out a sigh as she closed the distance between them, her lips seeking his. "Be careful."

"Same to you," he murmured against her lips.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled away from her and continued to the edge of the wards. With a troubled glance over his shoulder, he inclined his head and disapparated with a loud crack.

Hermione pressed her fingers to her lips and waited a few seconds before turning back and slipping back into the safehouse. The three elders stopped talking immediately and stared at her. "Do any of you have a better plan?"

"Hermione, what you're proposing-"

"I know what I'm proposing," she interrupted McGonagall. "I've been sitting on the sidelines for too long. This is our chance to do something. I can end this. I _know_ I can."

The three of them exchanged a glance.

"Draco will never go for it," Arthur said, unable to meet her gaze.

"Let me worry about him," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"And if he never agrees?" Kingsley asked.

"He will," Hermione breathed. "He has to."

* * *

It was four days before Draco was able to return to the safehouse. Hermione was washing the dishes she had used for dinner when she heard the familiar crack and felt the wards give way to his presence. She lifted her gaze to the window over the sink and watched as he approached. He opened the door as she was putting the last dish on the drying rack, her hands still on the plate when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and pressed her against the counter.

"Anyone else here?" he asked.

"No," she replied, leaning back into him, tilting her head to the side so his lips could drag across her skin. "But they'll be here soon." His presence always altered those that knew he was on their side. Whatever safehouse they were currently at, they had ten minutes or less before they were no longer alone.

"Guess we'll have to be quick then."

A smile tugged at her lips as he spun her so that she was facing him. She brought her hands up to cup his face and brought it down to hers. Their lips met, crashing into one another in a hungered frenzy. They treated all of their trysts as if it were the last one. Simply because they never knew when it might actually be it. And after she dropped her news on him, it might very well be the last time.

Her lips parted with a groan as he tightened his hold on her hips and spun her around, pushing her into the table. The wood scraped against the floor from the impact. As much as she wished they could move this upstairs and give each other the time and attention their bodies deserved, they didn't have the time. Making do with their stolen moment as per the norm, her hands dropped to his waist and clawed at his belt and trousers while his hands tugged up the skirt of her dress. Once the material was bunched up around her waist, he lifted her onto the table and stepped between her legs.

She pushed at the waistband of his trousers and boxers, moving them down just enough before wrapping her hand around his length and pulling him out. He moaned into her mouth as she stroked him in a way that had him hard and weeping in mere seconds. As one of his hands pushed back into her hair so he could deepen their kiss, the other crept down to run through her folds. She hissed with pleasure into his mouth as he teased her clit.

She whined and nipped at his bottom lip as he withdrew his hand in favor of coating his cock in her arousal. She bit down hard, tasting blood as he slammed into her, burying himself all the way to the hilt. Hermione wound her arms around his neck, one hand resting on his shoulder while the other cupped the back of his head. He hooked his arms behind her knees, bringing them as close as possible, and began rocking his hips against hers.

She broke the kiss, abruptly throwing her head back as heat spread over her, stemming from where their bodies joined. She tipped her head to the side as his lips found her neck. He suckled, nipped, and licked at her skin, eliciting moan after moan from her. Her hips bucked as they tried to find his rhythm. When one of her moans turned into a frustrated whine, he unhooked one of her legs to tease at her clit again. Her hips jerked in response; he always knew what she needed.

" _Draco_!"

"Come for me, Hermione," he demanded, his voice husky with lust. He groaned against her throat. "Fuck, I'm close."

She nodded in earnest. She could already feel herself beginning to crest. Her walls were clutching at him, trying to draw him in deeper. If anyone had slipped through the wards, she was sure they were getting quite the earful. Her moans increased in frequency and volume as his fingers flew across her clit.

"Oh gods," she moaned. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm- _Draco_!"

He came right along with her, slowing his movements to long, leisurely strokes as he emptied himself inside of her and extended her high. When they both came crashing down to reality, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder and panted for air as he peppered kisses to the crown of her head. They lingered there, neither one ready to leave the solace their arms brought one another.

They only pulled away when they felt a tug at the wards, signaling they were no longer alone. Draco stepped back as he whispered a spell to clean them both. He tucked himself back into his trousers and redid his clothes at the same time she got to her feet and smoothed out her skirt.

No sooner had she sat in a chair at the table did the door open and Arthur walk in first. He hesitated at the doorway before slowly peaking around the corner, smiling at the sight of them not wrapped up in one another. Hermione smiled back at him, ducking her face to hide the blush on her face. Once he had walked in on them and that was the only reason everyone had agreed to not arrive at the precise moment he activated the wards to her safehouse.

Draco waved his wand and five glasses came parading out of the cabinet, landing on the counter beside the fridge. He opened the door and took out the pitcher of tea she kept in there. He poured it into the glasses, put back what was left, and then sent the glasses to the table. He took a seat beside Hermione, placing his hand on her thigh beneath the table as they waited.

By the time Arthur had slid into his seat, the wards thrummed twice followed by two cracks, one after the other. Soon, McGonagall and Kingsley were walking into the kitchen. After an exchange of acknowledgements, they took their seats and looked between Draco and Hermione expectantly.

"Any plans?" he asked them, squeezing her thigh when her lips parted. "Ones that aren't completely asinine."

Hermione closed her mouth, lips pressing into a thin line as she watched the three elder members exchange a glance. Slowly, they looked at her and then at Draco. She felt him tense beside her and then removed his hand from her as if she burned him.

"Draco, we feel-"

"I said no."

Hermione kept her eyes on the glass before her as he glared daggers into the side of her head.

"Draco, we have been trying to come up with something better than what Hermione proposed, but we all agree," McGonagall said, her voice tentative, knowing he would lash out. "It _is_ the best plan."

Hermione jumped despite the fact she knew it was coming. His fist slammed into the table hard enough that she heard the wood splinter. He shoved his chair back roughly and got to his feet, shaking out his hand. She could see red around his knuckles where blood welled through the tiny cuts.

"We don't need you in order to carry this out."

Hermione knew the moment the words left her mouth that Draco was going to completely unhinge. She felt his him snap like a rubber band when he stilled his pacing behind her. Slowly, he turned towards her and she got to her feet to face him, her back to the Order members.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't need your permission to continue. I can get caught by anyone and they would take me to the Dark Lord and I can carry on as planned once I'm behind closed doors." She held his gaze even when his eyes darkened with rage and his scowl turned murderous. "It would be easier if we had your help, but it's not a requirement. For this."

"Fine. You want to offer yourself up like a whore for the Dark Lord, tell me your brilliant plan."

She flinched at his choice of words and took a deep breath. "For starters, fuck you, I am not a whore."

"Trust me, you'll be treated like one if you do this."

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance at him. "Oh? And you would know what the Dark Lord does? Are you one of his most trusted that is honored with watching his most depraved acts of violence?"

"Yes."

Her bravery faltered slightly. She hadn't really prepared for that answer. She was taken aback by the jealousy coursing its way up her spine. "Just how many times have you _participated_?"

He stepped closer to her and she felt the table biting into her back. "As many times as was necessary. I do what I have to, same as everyone else."

"Then let _me_ do something!" she snapped, pushing her face closer to his. "This is my chance to help."

"What the hell do you want me to say, Granger?" he barked, slamming his palms on the table beside her, leaning in so she had to arch backwards while he seethed in her face. "This isn't a simple 'take one for the team!' This is-"

McGonagall cleared her throat and the two of them turned their heads towards the others to see that they had all stood and were holding onto their wands hesitantly. Draco pushed himself back from her and resumed pacing, muttering under his breath. "Maybe the three of you could-"

"And let the two of you hex each other to death?" McGonagall interrupted. "I think not."

"I'll go," Draco said, taking a step towards the door. "We're done here."

"Draco, stop!" Hermione shouted, reaching out to grab his wrist.

His eyes landed on her fingers and then slowly traveled up until his gaze met hers. "Let go, Granger. Or I will carry out the threats I spoke of last we met."

Her response was to tighten her hold and look at the other three. "Please leave. I'll contact you later."

For a moment, there was a silent tension around the kitchen. Arthur was the first to incline his head, stash his wand, and make way for the door. Once they exited the house and made for the Apparition point, Draco yanked out of her grasp and rounded on her like he had the last time. This time though, he did apply pressure on her throat as his fingers wound around it.

"Maybe the isolation is getting to that mind of yours, Granger, because it seems that you've gone completely off your rocker."

She pushed back against him, clawing at his hand until he loosened his hold. His hand remained, but it slid a little further down, the heel of his palm resting above the swell of her breasts. "Draco, this is an opportunity we can't pass up. This is something we've been _waiting_ for. You know it. I know you do. If there were something better, don't you think I would have come up with it already?"

He shook his head, disbelief twisting his mouth into a scowl. "There has to be another way. You have no idea what he's capable of. The things he'll do to you…" He shook his head and leaned in, wrapping her tightly in an embrace. "And if you fail, that's it. You'll be dead. All those plans we have for the future die with you."

She held onto him just as tight and sighed into him. "I know the risks, Draco." She took a deep breath and pulled back, cupping his face and brushing the hair out of his eyes. "But if I succeed, the Dark Lord is gone. He'll be the one dead and our future won't be a bunch of what-ifs. We won't have to sneak around pretending we have a future. We won't have to be scared to talk about us. We'll be able to have a life together instead of just a few stolen moments here and there, wondering if it's the last time or not."

His hand rose to cup her face, brushing tears from her cheeks that she hadn't even realized had fallen. "He's already chosen me as his honored guest," he whispered. "That means I'll have to watch. I'll have to do whatever he asks me to." He swallowed hard and his eyes turned glassy. "He _will_ make me hurt you."

She nodded. "It will be no different than anything else you've had to do this far."

"Granger-"

"No, listen," she urged, sliding her hand back into his hair. "I mean it. Do whatever it is that you would normally do when he asks these things of you. I'll know you don't mean it and I'll forgive you, Draco. I promise, no matter what, I'll forgive you." She brushed over his bottom lip with her thumb, catching a tear drop. "Will you be able to forgive me when this is all over? No matter the outcome?"

He nodded and surged forward, capturing her lips for a sweltering kiss. His mouth was relentless against her, tasting every bit of her as if committing it to memory. "Things were far easier when I hated you," he murmured when he pulled away for air.

She let out a puff of air and nodded against him. "I love you too."

"Will you love me after, too?"

She smiled up at him as she continued to wipe his falling tears just as he did the same to her. "I will love you until the end of time and as far beyond as the gods allow me."

He smiled and kissed her again, just his mouth against hers, lingering as long as he could. "I love you too, Hermione." He pulled away and turned to look at the clock. "I have to go."

"When can I expect you back?"

"I'll come by tomorrow, same time. Just you and I so warn everyone else ahead of time. We can finalize this madness you call a plan then."

She nodded and reached for his hand. Silently, they made their way to the end of the wards before he drew her in for another spellbinding kiss. Without another word, he pulled away from her, slipped beyond the wards, and disapparated with a loud crack.

The moment Draco had left, Hermione put out the call for the three others to come back. She let them in on what Draco had agreed to and then watched the Apparate back to their own safehouses. When she was alone, she withdrew to the sole bathroom and took a bath, mentally preparing herself for what she had signed up for. After that, she had gone straight to bed, dreaming of Draco; the freedom so close she could taste it as she nodded off.

* * *

The following day she spent thinking of all the ways she could take out Voldemort once she was there. As the day progressed, she found herself going mad as the more scenarios she proposed for herself, the more generated on their own along with an endless list of questions. She knew the only thing that would quiet her mind was Draco's appearance and his ability to give her answers.

She was pacing the space just inside the wards where he always appeared. When he slipped through, her jaw dropped at the sight of his blackened eye and split lip. "What happened?" she asked, hands immediately yanking his face down to her level so she could inspect him.

He winced, but didn't try to pull away. "Muggles fighting like Muggles."

Hermione went still, but kept his face in her hands. "You-"

"You know my role in the Dark Lord's regime, Hermione. I did what I had to," he said, pulling away from her. "And this will heal. I'm fine."

She took a few deep breaths, pushing the mental images of war away. They never talked about his job. She knew what it entailed. She knew it was hard enough on him and that he didn't want to taint her vision of him by dumping his duties on her. "Have you eaten?" He shook his head and she gestured for him to follow her into the house. He sat while she rummaged up a plate of leftovers for him. "How much time do we have?" she asked.

"Longer than usual," he replied, tucking into his meal. "We have a lot of ground to cover." She nodded and watched as he ate in a way that reminded her of Ron. It felt as though she had barely blinked before his plate went from full to nothing but crumbs. He pushed it away and set his fork down across the center. "Thank you."

She took his dish to the sink and moved to the living room, grabbing his hand as she passed and pulling him down next to her on the sofa. "Where should we start?"

"I need you to fully understand what you're getting into, Hermione."

She nodded, her nerves knotting up her stomach fiercely when he refused to meet her gaze. "Tell me."

He shook his head slowly and reached over for her hand. "It would be better if you... If I showed you."

She frowned as she thread her fingers through his, squeezing tightly. "Okay."

He finally looked at her then. There was true terror in his eyes as well as guilt and sorrow. "What you're about to see," he warned, pausing to clear his throat. "He'll do worse to you. He'll make _me_ do worse to you."

"Does he always make you participate?"

"Not always," he replied, his voice quiet. "But he will with you. He doesn't know about us, but we have history. He'll take how I used to feel and-"

"I get it," she said, reaching up to card her fingers through his hair. "Just like I told you yesterday. I forgive you for everything you'll have to do; every action, every word. All of it."

He nodded again and then shifted so that he was facing her. She saw his face relax and knew that he was preparing to let her into his mind. When he was ready, he squeezed her hand. She did the same and took a deep breath before she whispered the spell and felt her mind leave her body to join with his.

As was usual with Legilimency, it felt like gliding. When she entered his mind, there was nothing to keep her anchored to the front of his mind. Instead, she continued on down the stream of his thoughts until his Occlumency brought her to a stop. When his own presence wrapped around hers, he led her down the path he had carved just for this purpose and she let the images in.

He was a natural Occlumens which, on any other occasion, she was grateful for. His memories were always clear and concise, giving her a perfect window to the moment he recalled as if she were right there beside him when it happened. It was unfortunate that this also proved to be the case when witnessing Voldemort in the height of his depravity.

Time and time again, Hermione was met with the image of blood and broken bodies. Of a man she didn't recognize physically, but everything about his attitude screamed that this was Voldemort. She briefly wondered if it was Tom Riddle. If he hadn't found a way to reverse the effects of Dark magic and turn back to his human appearance when the occasion warranted. That that was the man took what he wanted from whoever the victim happened to be in that moment.

Screams resonated in the depths of Draco's mind and left her trembling. Men and women begged for their lives to be over rather than have their bodies ravaged over and over again. He would flay them alive, bit by bit, taking pleasure in their pain. He would cut them, whip them, fuck them until they were nothing but a boneless heap. When he finally did bring mercy to them, it was far too late to be considered humane.

What broke her indefinitely was watching Draco play his part. She could feel his emotions as he watched from the sidelines, commanded not to look away. Forced to keep a mask of indifference about his face while internally he was screaming and wishing he could do something. It was even worse when he had to shift that mask into one of a bloodlust she knew he didn't possess. Watching him be the one to inflict the pain as Voldemort had done had her magic skipping and she retreated quickly.

They were both breathing hard and leaning into one another; tears cascading down their cheeks. "I can't do this, Hermione. You can't do this." He held her face between trembling hands. "Don't make _me_ do this."

She didn't want to. Deep down in her gut, she knew that, but she wouldn't meet the same fate as the others. She would put an end to this and then no one would ever have to suffer at the hands of that monster ever again. When she told him as much, he squared his shoulders, clenched his jaw, nodded once, and sat back. After she steadied herself as well, they began to plan.

"When do you take me in?"

"The night before. I'll say I'm following a lead a day or two ahead of that. We'll have to make it look like a struggle when I bring you in."

She nodded and smirked a bit. "Fourteen-year-old me is dying for a redo."

He scowled at her for a moment, but it quickly turned into a smirk, wincing as he reopened the split on his lip. She accioed Cream of Dittany as well as some Bruise Remover Paste from George. "You won't have your wand," he said as she uncapped the Dittany.

She paused before dipping her finger into the cream. It had crossed her mind that that would be the case, but to have it confirmed was a little more terrifying. She only nodded as she massaged a small amount onto his lower lip. After she capped the jar, she repeated the motion with the paste over his eye, her touch even more gentle than before.

"I can practice wandless magic then."

He shook his head. "Not good enough," he said. "You could practice for years and your magic will never match his. If you're going to kill him, we'll need something more effective."

"What about a dagger?"

His brow quirked up as his lips curved down. "And where do you plan on hiding a weapon of any sort, Granger? You'll be stripped during your search and that will be the last time you wear clothes until I get you out."

She eyed him wearily, her fingers pausing on his skin. "You're sure you'll be the one in the room with us?"

"Positive."

"Will you be searched?"

"Not unless the Dark Lord himself has cause for concern," he said, his voice heavy with realization. "He always takes a break or two. I imagine I'll have a moment alone with you at some point while he does so."

"Then you'll be the one to have the weapon and as soon as we can, you'll give it to me. When he returns, I'll take him out."

"Did you see the state he leaves people in, Granger? You won't be in the right frame of mind for that. And even if you were lucky, you have zero combat skills."

"So teach me."

"We have two months. There's no way I-"

"I can brew a potion to help with muscle memory. That way, I'll learn fast and when the time comes, it'll be second nature. Coupled with the flight or fight response, I'll be fine."

His lips quirked into a smile as she drew her hands away from his face. "Let me guess, you found this potion in a book?"

She wiped her hands on her pants and then tucked her curls behind her ears. "Don't I always?"

He smirked and leaned back against the couch, drawing her into his side. "I'll find the dagger."

"Goblin made," she said. "And if you can use connections to get some Basilisk venom, do it. If you end up getting some, dip the dagger into it."

"Isn't that what Potter did to the Sword of Gryffindor?"

She nodded. "It might be overkill, but I'd rather cover all my bases."

They went about finalizing their plans and when they had everything as nailed down as they could, they moved onto sating their needs. More than once they found the comfort only they could provide one another. This was the longest he had ever been able to stay and it was only when the first tendrils of dawn began to peak through the windows did he part ways. He promised to be back as often as he could to be the one to train her, but encouraged her to enlist one or two other Order members that could help.

* * *

By the end of the second week, thanks to the potion, Hermione's knew how to fight as if she had been doing so her entire life. What they focused on more than anything was the power and strength behind her offensive strikes. Draco taught her all sorts of moves that were geared more towards defense than offense. By the end, she could slip out of nearly any hold and had more than once bested him.

He trained her in other useful ways as well. He used Legilimency on her every night as well. Sometimes before they sparred, sometimes during, but always after. He would alternate between going in undetected; seeing how long it took her to notice and forcing his way into her mind, ignoring the way she would scream with pain until she learned how to put up her defenses faster. And instead of blocking him completely, she had learned the art of redirecting her thoughts. That way, she would be able to show the Dark Lord something relevant, but not detrimental to the Order should it all go wrong.

The last thing he trained her on was pain and pleasure. Just like with Legilimency, any chance he had to make her cry out in one of two ways, he took. From what she had witnessed in his memories, she knew the Dark Lord liked to addle the brain by forcing them to reach their peak over and over again, never stopping no matter how much they begged. The more Draco did the same to her, the more she could tolerate and still keep her sanity about her when it was all over. The pain aspect of it was so that she didn't succumb to the draw of a blade against her skin right off the bat.

He didn't put half as much effort into the pain as he did the pleasure, but she was grateful for the help all the same.

The night before the Revel, Hermione paced the property as well as the house, unable to sit still. Whereas most of the world would be gearing up to receive chocolates or something romantic from their partners, she was ready to be taken prisoner. The fact that the next twenty-four hours could be her last was not something she could stop thinking about.

As per part of their plan, she had brewed an assortment of healing potions and Draco would keep on his person. If everything went well, she would be able to take them right after it was over and, depending on her injuries, he could bring her to a proper healer after their departure. Even then, realistically, what she had the ingredients to brew would be no better than a Muggle Band-Aid.

When Draco charged through the wards, she had been on the porch. She was already on her feet and running to him as he did the same to her. They met in the middle, clashing together in a frenzy of need. They sank to the ground, not caring that they were out in the open; that if anyone chose that moment to visit, they would be catching quite a show. She was glad that she had said her goodbyes without saying them the other day and hoped it was enough to deter people from stopping by now.

As it was, when Hermione found herself flat on her back in the grass, Draco was already deep inside of her. Her legs cradled his body to hers as she hooked one around his waist. He grabbed one of her hands and held it above her head, the other propping himself up enough so he could lean in and kiss her.

This was the last time. Whether it was actually the last time or it was the time before everything changed drastically; they didn't stop until neither one of their bodies could handle anymore. When the time came to go, they redressed and got back on their feet. She handed him the vials of potions. He charmed the little bundle to shrink and be unbreakable so he could store them in his bag. The same one she had cast an undetectable extension charm on to mirror her beaded bag. She knew the dagger lay inside it as well.

He stepped back from her and spread one arm out while the other pointed at his face. "Alright, Granger, let your fourteen-year-old-"

Her fist connected with his face right between the eyes before he had even finished speaking.

" _Fuck_!" he hissed, his hands covering his face. "Merlin, that fucking hurts."

She smiled briefly. "You'll survive."

"We both will," he said, leaning in to capture her lips again, hissing into her mouth at the pain when her nose smacked into his. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Draco."

He raised his wand, pointed it at her, and with a shaky breath, said, " _Petrificus Totalus_."


	2. The Revel

**The Revel**

" _Ennerverate_!"

The spell hit Hermione square in the chest and she gave into her body's natural reaction to fight for a moment before she realized where she was. No longer was she standing in the middle of the grass with Draco in the safety of the wards, but instead, she was now sitting in the middle of a large room. Hundreds if not thousands of tiny flames flickered, be it from the sconces on the walls, the candelabras on the table, or the floating sticks near the ceiling. They cast shadows on a space already made eerie by the large number of Death Eaters leering down at her.

She glanced down at herself to find that her ankles and wrists were bound and there was a gag in her mouth. Her clothes were still on, but she wasn't sure for how much longer. Her only hope was that Voldemort would leave them on her until they were in that private room. She glanced up when she heard a throat clearing. Her eyes landed on Draco briefly before her gaze continued to move up to Voldemort sitting on his throne just to Draco's left.

"Good morning, Mudblood."

She swallowed as best she could with the gag pressing down on her tongue. Her fear was making her tremble, no matter how hard she fought to keep it from consuming her. Unable to speak, she just continued to stare at the Dark Lord.

With a flick of his wrist, she felt herself being lifted and dragged through the air, only to land hard on her knees before him. She groaned, but kept her head down, staring at the tattered ends of his robes instead. "Young Master Malfoy has brought me the very thing I require for tonight's ritual."

He leaned down and grasped her chin with hands colder than ice. She struggled as a reflex, but she complied, her gaze meeting the red slits he had for eyes. "My Lord said he wanted the perfect sacrifice," Draco drawled, using a voice Hermione had never heard from him. "When I got the lead on Potter's Mudblood, I knew I couldn't let you down."

Voldemort smiled in her face a moment before he released her and sat back. "You have done well, Draco. Bring her to my chambers. Have her prepared for the festivities," he ordered and Draco stepped forward to grab her bound wrists. "It is fortunate that you were already named my guest of honor for the night. You have done me a great service. Had it been someone else, I would have had to change that honor."

Draco inclined his head. "The honor truly is mine, My Lord," he said, pointing his wand at Hermione's bound feet. The rope twisted into shackles on a short chain to allow her to walk. Finished, he stepped out of the room with Hermione in tow.

Hermione knew it was too risky to break character, so she wasn't expecting him to speak to her, but she had hoped that he would. It was surreal to see him this way. This was how she always thought he would turn out, but she had been lucky enough to get to see the real Draco. She shook herself out of her thoughts and focused on walking behind him.

She wondered whose Manor it was they were walking the halls of. From what he had told her, Voldemort had abandoned his station at the Malfoy estate almost immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. He had killed Narcissa for lying about Harry being dead and Lucius had been punished in such a way that left him like Frank and Alice Longbottom. The difference being he was left to suffer and rot in the dungeons.

The only reason Draco was spared was that Voldemort had interpreted his visit to the Room of Requirement as trying to stop Harry and the destruction of the Diadem. Draco had fought hard to prove that he was nothing like his father; that he could follow orders without qualm and rose higher than Lucius ever had. He even surpassed the Dark Lord's expectations.

Hermione almost smirked with triumph. Draco was nothing like his father. The higher he rose in ranks, the more information he gave to the Order. Without his help, they would have been stamped out long ago.

They stopped in front of a massive set of double doors. Draco tapped his wand to the seam and there was a moment of silence before a series of clicks filled the air. Soon, the doors were opening on their own accord and Hermione stepped into what could only qualify as a royal bedroom fit for a king.

Draco stepped over the threshold and pulled her along with. She heard the groan of the doors and turned to watch them close behind her. He led her across the room and through an ornate silver arch to find a lavish bathroom decked out in everything one could desire of such a space.

"Strip."

The bindings on her wrist, the gag, and the shackles on her ankles disappeared, but Hermione was too busy taking in the grand bathroom to notice. He brought her out of her daze by grabbing her chin and yanking her back to reality.

"Do not make me repeat myself, Mudblood."

It took a moment for her to realize that they weren't alone. That there were three women on the opposite side of the room, facing the wall. They wore the same dull green robes, had braided hair coiled into a bun, and silver cuffs around their left biceps. They were waiting on orders from Draco.

She nodded and began to get out of her clothes. She wondered why the Dark Lord hadn't done this part in the throne room, but decided she was grateful for the modicum of privacy she was offered. When she was finished, Draco vanished her pile of clothes and took a deep breath, his eyes raking over her before he turned away in disgust. She knew it was the way he felt about the situation and not directed at her, but it still stung.

"The Dark Lord commands you try and leach the Mudblood of as much filth as you can," he said, his tone leading the women to turn and face them. "See to it that she is presentable. Scrub her until she bleeds if you have to."

Hermione watched as he turned on his heel and moved to stand near the arch. He stood in profile since he was supposed to keep an eye on her, but he made sure to keep his eyes averted as much as humanly possible while the women stepped forward and began the cleansing process Draco had demanded of them.

They had indeed followed his orders to the letter. By the time she stepped out of the scalding hot tub, her skin was pink and raw from how hard they had scrubbed. There were some places where blood had welled up to the surface, but she knew the pain was nothing compared to what she was about to experience. They had combed and washed her hair as well, her scalp still buzzing from how rough they had been with comb too. They didn't even dry her with a magic, not that she was sure they had access to it, or pat her down with a towel before bringing her forward to stand by Draco once more.

He beckoned for her to follow and then stopped once more in the middle of the room. "Arms up."

Her arms rose above her head and she tipped her head back to watch as ropes appeared out of thin air. One end of each rope coiled around her wrist, nearly cutting off circulation almost immediately while the other end tied itself to rings in the ceiling. She wondered if they appeared with the ropes or if they had always been there. She tried not to react when the ropes lifted her up until she was standing on her tiptoes, but the slightest of whimpers escaped her lips.

Draco's eyes flicked to hers for a second before he focused his wand on her ankles. Similar ropes and rings sprouted from the ground and wrapped around her, stopping only when she was spread as wide as possible. She shifted uncomfortably in her restraints and wondered how long she would have to wait for the festivities began.

"Leave us," he ordered and the three women from the bathroom took off towards the door. Alone, he looked back at Hermione. "It shouldn't be long now."

She gave a slight incline of her head, but nothing more.

True to his word, no more than a minute later, albeit a long one, the door to the room opened again and in walked a man that Hermione had only seen in Draco's memories. She knew what this man could do to her; that it was Voldemort; Tom Riddle, but there was something hauntingly charming about his human side. She could see how his looks and charisma tied into his psychotic nature.

But he didn't come alone.

Draco met her gaze for a split second, but it was enough to convey that the envoy was not normal. He stepped aside, allowing her a better view of who was walking into the room. They were the other high ranking Death Eaters. The only thing about this moment that gave her comfort was that Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix at the Battle of Hogwarts. The thought of her having another go at torturing her had Hermione nearly emptying her stomach now.

Yaxley. Dolohov. Nott Senior. Alecto Carrow. Rowle.

"They will not be staying," Riddle announced, more for their benefit it seemed.

Alecto was the one to step forward, her hands landing on Hermione's stomach, sliding up to cup her breasts. It was only for a second before Draco wedged his way between them and shoved her back. "The Mudblood was my gift, Carrow. My prize to claim."

Riddle stared at the pair and nodded his head. Alecto hung her head. "Forgive me, My Lord. I should have asked permission."

"Yes, you should have. You may leave now."

She looked up, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. For a moment, Hermione wondered if she was going to argue, but she seemed to get ahold of herself and took her leave of the room.

Riddle's eyes flickered amongst the remaining Death Eaters. "Anyone else feel the need to touch the Mudblood without permission?"

The four men shook their heads, but kept their eyes roving her body. "What about, _with_ permission?" Dolohov asked, sending chills up and down her spine.

"No." Riddle's response was immediate and flat. Hermione swallowed hard, suddenly glad that the rumors of Riddle's possessive nature were true. "Take one last look, gentlemen. Rowle, you can hand the vials to Draco." Draco held his hand out for three vials. Once he had taken them, Riddle waved his hand, opening the doors again. "Leave us."

Once it was just the three of them, Draco held up the vials and looked at Riddle. "May I ask what these do, My Lord?"

The slight tremble in his voice made Hermione panic. This was not the norm either it seemed. Riddle stepped up to them, pointing to the clear one. "These are a new concoction." His remained passive, but his eyes blazed with pride. "No matter how much pain we put her through or how many times she comes, her brain will reset." He turned to Hermione then and dragged a knuckle across her jaw. "No getting lost inside your own head, Mudblood. You'll be lucid for every little thing we put you through."

Hermione she felt as though she couldn't catch her breath.

"This one," he said, pointing to a pink liquid. "This one is special." He did smile then and Hermione had never seen anything more cruel in her entire life. "This one is an altered lust potion. It builds steadily. The more pain you experience, the more pleasure you feel and your lust increases. The more pleasure you are denied, the more pain it causes. A vicious cycle really. Most test subjects died quickly. They were unable to handle it."

He then tapped the last vial, a blue liquid.

"Rowle developed an antidote. Fast acting. One drop before it's too late and it cancels the lust. Then when the clear liquid takes effect and your mind and body are reset, the pink one can be administered and we begin again." His smile widened at Hermione as he placed a hand on her chest and let it travel slowly until it stopped just below the apex of her thighs. "I promise you will not die until I complete the ritual. No matter how much you beg."

He stepped away then, undoing his cufflinks as he moved to sink into the plush chair he conjured out of thin air.

"Give her the clear one, Draco."

Draco drew the clear vial into his free hand and then pocketed the other two. He stepped closer to Hermione, holding her gaze as his hand sank into her hair and yanked her head back. She yelped from the unexpected motion as well as the pain. He took advantage of her parted lips and dumped the contents of the vial into her mouth. She choked on it; half from fear half from the angle Draco had neck at. A few drops of the liquid spilled out from the corners of her lips, but she the majority of it eventually slid down her throat and coursed its way through her system.

She expected to feel a burning sensation or ice in her veins; something. Anything. But there was nothing. She blinked and took a deep, ragged breath as Draco released her and stepped back. She brought her head forward and watched as he moved to stand behind the chair Riddle sat in. Her gaze slid to Riddle and the moment it settled on him, he got to his feet. She struggled against her bonds as he stalked towards her. His eyes never left hers.

"Did you come here to kill me, Miss Granger?" he asked, stopping in front of her.

"Yes."

Her eyes widened and she saw Draco's eyes flash with uncertainty and fear as he met her gaze over Riddle's shoulder.

Riddle's lips twitched into the faintest trace of a smile. He waved his hand and a long stiletto dagger appeared, his fingers curling around the hilt. The emerald-studded handle glittered in the firelight when he moved his hand. She struggled against the bonds more as he pressed the tip of the blade above her heart.

"Young Master Malfoy here claims that he had a lead on your whereabouts. That he tracked you down to present me as my perfect sacrifice." He applied more pressure and a small whine left her throat from the sharp pain. "Is this true?"

"No."

Panic flared through her, making her entire body tremble. Both times he had asked her a question, she had felt the answer slip past her lips before she even had the chance to lie. The only thing she knew that did that was-

Riddle's smile was cruel as her eyes went wide. "Ah, I believe you're catching on."

He lowered his hand, a hiss of pain seeping past her lips as the blade dragged down her skin. It felt like a papercut at first and then slowly began to burn. She didn't need to look down to know that blood had reached the surface; she could feel it oozing down. She forced herself to keep her eyes on Riddle, afraid of what he might ask next if she looked at Draco again. If he was using Legilimency on her, she didn't feel a presence in her mind.

"Draco has always known where you are, is that correct?"

"Y-yes," she bit out, her body sagging in relief as he removed the blade once it landed at the top of her navel.

"And why is that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood. She could feel the Veritaserum forcing the words up her throat, pushing against her lips until she spoke the truth. "Because Draco works for the Order!" she hissed, hating herself more than she thought possible in that moment. Hermione's vision blurred with tears as she sobbed in fear of what would happen to them, but she could tell from the unchanging expression of Riddle's face that he had already known Draco was a spy.

"Has Draco told you how I treat my consorts?" he asked, moving out of sight behind her. "Has he trained you to withstand my methods of torture both mentally and physically?"

"Yes."

Draco had gone paler than normal and he was still as a statue, afraid to move or draw attention to himself.

Riddle was nearly flush against her back, his hands rising to her hips, ghosting over her flesh as they rose higher and higher. She shuddered as he gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her nipples, causing them to pebble. He pulled and tweaked them until they stiffened and then he slid one hand forward, his finger pressing against the cut he had made. She cried out as he ran the digit down; his finger slick with blood by the time he reached her navel. She swallowed hard as he continued down, dipping the bloodied finger between her legs and circling her clit with it. His other hand squeezed her breast at the same time and she moaned; half in agony, half in pleasure.

"As I'm sure you are both well aware of now, I had Rowle add Veritaserum to the clear potion," he said, never ceasing his ministrations. "I have had my suspicions about you for quite some time, Draco. I cannot have a spy high in my ranks. Not after tonight. Not once I sacrifice the Mudblood and gain the ancient magic."

Hermione's hips bucked as her blood on his finger mixed with her own arousal, allowing him to slide effortlessly over her clit, driving her to the brink of insanity. Whimpers and moans fell from her lips as she closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at Draco when Riddle pushed her over the edge. The moment her lashes caressed her cheeks, Riddle's finger slid the length of her slit and pressed into her core, making her body arch.

"Tell me, Mudblood, do you want to come?"

"Y-yes," she sobbed, guilty that body would betray her by being aroused and angry at her truthful response.

He added another finger and picked up the pace of his actions, his thumb brushing over her clit. "Draco, aim your wand at her," Riddle demanded.

Draco's rage gave way to confusion as his hand rose. His movements were jerky, as if he wasn't in control of his own actions. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. Hermione noticed the exertion on his face; as if he were fighting something.

"Let us test Rowle's creation," Riddle purred in her ear, his hand leaving her breast to curl around her jaw, holding her in place. "You will come for me, Mudblood. Your lover will watch as another makes you cry out in pleasure." Fire threatened to consume her as she tried to hold off on her orgasm, but she knew it wouldn't be much longer until she caved. "When she starts to sing for us, Draco, you will use the Cruciatus until she can no longer carry a tune."

"I won't."

The tension in Draco's voice was just as bad as the tremble in his arm as he trained her wand on her. The last time she had seen him like this was in the memory Harry had shared with her of the night Dumbledore died.

"You will," Riddle assured him. "The command has been given. You have no say in the matter."

Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she let out a wail of pleasure and crested. The moment she felt herself slip into oblivion, she heard Draco's voice cut through with the Unforgiveable curse. Her scream resonated off the walls at the feeling of being torn in two. It hit her square in the chest and pain exploded through her body, twisting her pleasurable high into a true nightmare.

When it was over, Hermione sagged against her bonds, trembling in the aftermath. Time seemed to be dragging through the mud, but with each passing second, she could feel it happening. The potion flowing through her veins was doing something to her nerves. After what she was sure was less than a minute, though it felt like hours, the pain and pleasure she had succumbed to moments ago felt like a distant memory. Now, as she opened her eyes to see Draco kneeling beside the chair, wand in front of him and Riddle standing between them looking pleased, she felt as she had the moment she'd woken up in front of his throne.

As if nothing had happened yet.

Riddle smiled at her as though she were a present and he was a child on Christmas morning. "Rowle will be thrilled to know his potion is nearly perfect." He held out his hand to Draco who only glared up at him in return. "The pink potion."

Much like with his wand, Draco struggled against the command, but lost the battle. Once Riddle had the lust potion in hand, he turned and approached Hermione. He placed a single drop on the tip of his index finger, the one still stained with her blood and tacky with her arousal. His other hand, still holding the vial, grasped her chin, wrenching her mouth open so that he could force the drop of potion into her mouth.

She choked as his finger nearly hit the back of her throat. She felt the chill of the potion on her tongue; the floral flavor mixing with the metallic tang of blood and musk of her slick for a one-of-a-kind taste. She swallowed around his fingers, holding his gaze as he wet his lips.

When he retreated, the ropes holding her arms to the ceiling tightened, removing any last bit of circulation that remained. Pain lanced through her arms a moment before a small wave of pleasure rose to replace it. She swallowed hard at the idea of what was to come. She watched as the dagger reappeared in his hand again. Her breath hitched and tears clouded her vision as he pressed the tip on the outside of her right rib, just below her breast and dragged diagonally towards her navel. He repeated the action on the left and when her head lolled forward, she saw the V he had carved into her skin.

Her wails of pain turned into moans of pleasure as her body writhed and clenched in need. The more her mind recognized it as pain, the harder her body sought pleasure. One constantly gave way to the other, making her skin crawl and her fear rise exponentially.

If one drop of the pink potion was already taking effect this quickly, she could only imagine how fast it would bring her to her death. Especially if he made Draco use the Cruciatus on her again. That alone would be powerful enough to push her into an early grave.

Riddle was at her back again, pushing her hair forward until it covered her breasts. It was long enough that the ends brushed against the marks on her skin, making her weep with pleasure and pain. She felt the tip of the blade pressing between her shoulder blades; not breaking skin, but hard enough to send a message.

"My darling Bellatrix, gods rest her soul, was ahead of her time in carving what you are into your arm. What words should I carve onto your back?" he asked. "Any suggestions, Draco?"

Draco had pushed himself into a kneeling position, still leaning heavily against the armchair. He was seething, his chest heaving with anger. He said nothing. Instead, he turned his head and spat off to the side. Hermione saw the tint of pink that left his mouth and her heart skipped a beat.

"No matter," Riddle said from behind her, his tone slightly irate at Draco's disobedience. "Come here."

She watched as Draco struggled and wracked her brain trying to pinpoint what it was that gave Riddle such control over him. She wondered if he hadn't done something to him before they came into this room, if Riddle was just that powerful, or if it had something to do with the Dark Mark. He got to his feet and fought each step forward. Hermione's determination renewed; if he _was_ that powerful, there was no way they could let him get the ancient magic tonight.

She sighed with relief as she felt the release of pressure as Riddle removed the blade from her skin. He came to stand in front of her as well, handing the blade to Draco, hilt first. "Carve whore into her back. Make it cover the length of her spine."

Blood streamed from Draco's nose as he fought the command. His eyes stayed locked on Riddle's as his grip tightened on the dagger hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Riddle's lips curved up in amusement, watching as Draco's torso pitched forward. If he kept fighting, Riddle's hold was going to crush him.

"Stop!"

Both men turned their heads to face her. Two pairs of grey eyes regarded her, one with amusement, the other filled with pain and sorrow. She focused on the latter.

"Stop fighting. Just do it."

Riddle's head tipped up, his face twisted in surprise, staring at her as if she was an entirely different person. He turned his body towards her, reaching up to wrap his fingers about her chin. "I can see why you're drawn to her, Draco. Not even past the warm up and she is already begging for it."

He tapped his fingers along her jaw for a second before letting his arm fall back to his side. He turned his back to them and moved until he was sitting back in the chair. He leaned back, propped one leg up, ankle over his knee. One arm rested over his thigh while the other rested on the arm of the chair, allowing him to prop his chin in his hand.

"Now, Draco."

Draco's hesitation was still there, but she saw the fight dim in his eyes as he began to move behind her. When he was out of sight, Hermione closed her eyes against the burn of her tears and tried to relax. They had trained for this. She could stand the pain. This was only temporary. Soon, Riddle would give her the antidote, the pain would stop, and it would only be a distant memory for both of them. Even if the carving remained, she would just find a way to get rid of it later.

She bit her lip and groaned in pain as the tip of the blade bit into the small of her back. She opened her eyes as she swallowed through the wave of pleasure, her gaze landing on Riddle. His eyes were dark with lust as they bore into hers and he wet his lips.

As Draco began to carve, she felt him trembling with each slice he made into her skin. She could feel blood as it wept down her skin in the wake of Draco carrying out his orders. She struggled against her binds and despite her best efforts to keep silent and strong, it got to her. The potion forced a vicious cycle of wails and moans, the sounds echoing through the room in an endless crescendo of pain and pleasure.

In a rare moment of clarity, she saw Riddle shift in the chair. Both feet were planted on the floor, his thighs apart from one another. His trousers were unfastened and slightly pushed away from his hips. He had one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other stroking himself to the sight and sounds of her torture. His movements were leisurely, nothing that would get him off anytime soon. Another reminder that this was only the beginning. His eyes were full of fiery hunger as he continued to watch her. The intensity of his gaze setting her off in ways she couldn't fathom.

As the dagger fell away from her shoulder blades, she heard it clatter to the floor. As she sagged against her restraints, sobs flowing freely, she heard Draco retching behind her. Her heart beat was rapid in her chest and she failed to catch her breath. The pleasure had built, but with no outlet for release, only pain remained.

Riddle slowly stopped stroking himself and tucked his length back into his clothes. He stalked towards her, not bothering to refasten anything, his trousers barely staying up. He moved around her to admire Draco's work, letting out a hum of approval after a moment. She cried out as he pressed his hand against the top of her spine before running his hand down the length of her spine to the small of her back.

"You have done well, Draco."

When she opened her eyes, he was in front of her, his hand raised between them, her blood dripping down to the floor. His fingers curled around her chin again, but only for a moment before sliding down her throat. He continued to paint her, his hand gliding effortlessly down the center of her body thanks to her life's blood. He didn't stop as he reached the mound of flesh between her thighs.

She cried as he grabbed her cunt forcefully, his blood slicked fingers sliding through her folds. Two of which slipped into her body with no resistance whatsoever and he hummed in approval. "You really are quite stunning like this," he purred, crooking his fingers and quickening his pace. "Would you like to be put out of your misery?"

Hermione's lips parted on their own volition as the magic from the Veritaserum forced the truth to the surface. She gave a jerky nod of her head and a garbled moan escaped her. " _Yes_ ," she whispered, her voice nothing more than a croak. The moment the word rolled off her tongue, she felt sick; a feeling that only intensified with the satisfied smirk that crossed Riddle's face.

He withdrew his hand and brought it back up to her face. She winced as he cupped her jaw, her combined bodily fluids staining her skin wherever he touched. "Get her down," he ordered, turning away.

She heard shuffling behind her as Draco got to his feet. As gently as possible, he used his wand to make her binds disappear. The moment she was free she sagged, leaning so heavily on Draco from her limbs having gone numb that they staggered a bit. He said nothing to her when she cried out from his accidental contact with the fresh wound. His apology lie in his touch and in his eyes as he used his body to shield her, even if only for a moment, from Riddle's gaze.

"Come to me, Mudblood."

Draco tightened his hold on her for a moment before reluctantly letting her go. Legs still numb and pain too great, she stumbled to her knees right away, crying out when she landed on them. Draco made to reach for her, but she shook her head. She could stand whatever happened to her; she didn't need to see him get hurt. She dug down deep, trying to get the strength to pull herself up, but Riddle's voice stopped her.

"No need to get up," he said. She lifted her gaze to him, gritting her teeth at the contempt in his eyes. "Crawl."

Hermione's skin prickled with gooseflesh as her trembling lips curled into a sneer. Slowly, she lowered her hands to the ground and began to move, trying her best to ignore the shooting pains that flamed her body as she went. When she stopped, she sat back on her heels and peered up at him through her lashes, her hands in her lap as she kneaded them together to bring back feeling.

He leaned forward, his hand sinking into her hair, dirtying it with her own blood. She yelped from the force of his hold and stared up at the small gap between their faces. She could feel his even breaths on her face, mixing with her pants. "How does it feel, Miss Granger?" he asked. "To know that all your plans to kill me, everything Draco has done to betray me, was all for naught? That by the end of the night, you'll both be dead? That I will continue to do as I please and there will not be a damn thing anyone can do about it?"

"Someone will," she seethed. He tightened his hold and forced her head back, straining her throat from the angle. "It may be years from now, but everyone dies, Riddle. Even the gods." She winced as her body bowed in pain and pleasure. "And someday, so will you."

The corners of his lips twitched in displeasure as his eyes darkened in anger. "Mudbloods are no better than animals in my book." His gaze flickered past her to Draco, a smirk eradicating his frown. "It will give me immense pleasure to watch the one you love treat you accordingly." He raised his other hand, beckoning Draco forward. "This will be the last time he ever fucks you."

She swallowed hard and gave a hissing sigh as he released her. Pain made the blood in her veins woosh in her ears, drowning out all other noise for a moment. When it subsided and world righted itself, she felt Draco's hands on her, moving her back to a position on all fours. It left her facing Riddle who had resumed stroking himself. He reached out, knuckles grazing her jaw as Draco brushed himself through her folds.

Hermione's eyes went wide as Draco pushed forward, sinking into her with ease, filling her to the brim. She threw her head back, her hair moving over the slur on her spine, making her cry out. His grip on her hips tightened as he slid in and out of her at an agonizingly slow pace. She understood that he didn't want to hurt her, that he was trying to make this as painless as possible, but if she didn't get release soon, there would be no sacrifice for the later. The notion that, at any moment, all of their plans could truly be for nothing, ignited her determination.

She pushed her hips back against Draco, meeting him thrust for thrust. She felt his hesitation at first, his self-hatred rolling off of him in waves. Hermione couldn't let it take over him. She needed him to do whatever it was that got them through to the rest of their plans. She _needed_ to do something worthy of the blue potion so she could heal.

She needed to come.

Her fingers curved against the ground, her nails breaking and bleeding as she begged for Draco to fuck her faster; harder. She felt the shift in him as he pushed down his feelings and let his own raw need take over. He palmed her ass, spreading her wider so he could hit deeper within her aching walls. He picked up his pace too, the resulting friction already pushing her towards the tipping point.

Just as she tossed her head back to scream his name with her release, Riddle fisted her hair again and forced her eyes up to his. When she came back down from the distant realm of pleasure Draco had sent her to, Riddle was kneeling in front of her, the chair at his back. She barely had time to catch her breath before he pushed his cock into her mouth and used his hand in her hair to dictate her movements.

As Draco's thrusts increased behind her, so did Riddle's before her. She put her energy and concentration on breathing through her nose, trying hard to tamper down on the panic of having something repeatedly rammed down her throat. She could feel another release building up and judging from the erratic movements from Draco, he was close as well.

Just as she heard his tell-tale groan of being nearly there, Riddle withdrew from her mouth and then she was moving. Everything happened so fast, that it wasn't until she groaned from being filled did she realize it was Riddle beneath her instead of Draco. They were in his chair with her straddling his lap. His hands were on her hips as he rocked his beneath her at a brutal pace. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders, fisting the fabric of the shirt he never even so much as unbuttoned.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tongue and teeth blazing a trail of fire up and down the column of her throat. He listed one hand to first her hair, angling her head back for better access. "Gods, you really are just the thing I needed for tonight," he murmured against her skin. "Such a shame I have to kill you later. What a prize you would have made; one I would have claimed every night."

Tears fell down her face, streaking the blood that had dried on her skin. There was still time to enact their plan. Still time to slay the monster beneath her. But with every thrust he made, every ripple of pleasure she experienced as a result, she regretted ever making this plan. If they made it out alive, she would let Draco tell her _I told you so_ forever and never challenge him again.

"Just because you didn't come inside her, does not mean you are finished." It took her a moment to realize he was addressing Draco. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as he gave the next command. "You labeled her a whore. Time to treat her like one." He stilled his movements, forcing her to sink down until she was painfully full. His other hand rose to run up the length of her spine again, the pain causing her to yelp and squirm. "When you come, aim for the mark you left."

And then he was moving again. The coil inside of her snapped at the frenzy of his thrusts, of the way she bounced above him, hitting just the right angle to send her over the edge. It was the heated splash of Draco's release, like salt in the wound, that did it. As he groaned behind her, she clung to Riddle and reached for the stars.

Her cries of pleasure were cut short as Riddle shoved her from his lap and down to the floor. She landed at Draco's feet, her body twisted unnaturally. Still trembling and twitching from her release, she winced as Riddle added his to her back with Draco's.

"One drop of the blue potion," he ordered as he tucked himself away and cleaned himself up. Hermione watched as her blood disappeared from his skin without a trace. As if he had been an innocent bystander. Draco scrambled for the blue vial and, after some struggle, opened her mouth to accept a single drop, waiting for it to put her out of her misery. She swallowed it greedily, hoping it would act fast.

As she felt the pain and pleasure lessening from her body, she knew the potion was working. Slowly, she felt herself returning to normal as blue potion ended the torment of the pink and the clear took over and put her right back to the start. The only evidence that something had happened at all were the memories making her tremble and the drying blood and bodily fluids that littered her skin.

If her spine was still marred, she couldn't tell.

Hermione groaned as she felt herself being lifted. She assumed it had been Draco, but when she opened her eyes she found it was Riddle's magic. She moved until she was on her knees, leaning back on her heels again. She felt something slide around her ankles and gasped as her arms snapped together behind her back. When the same sensation wound around her wrists, she realized she was being bound together again. Tears welled from her eyes as another set of ropes slid around her legs, binding her calves to her thighs to ensure that she remained in her humiliating submissive position.

"Draco, if you would," Riddle spoke, his voice flat.

Hermione and Draco both looked at the item that appeared in his hand between them. It was a gag with the rubber bar in the center. Their gazes met and she saw the sorrow buried amongst the grey of his irises as he lifted it up. It settled against her lips and she opened her mouth to let it slide in between her teeth. She bent her head down slightly so he could cinch it over her hair behind her.

"Clean yourself up and wait for me in the hall," Riddle instructed, his eyes never leaving Hermione.

Panic surged through her as she watched Draco follow his orders. When the sound of the door closing behind him reached her ears, her fear doubled and she began to tremble. With the bar in her mouth, she wasn't able to swallow back her sobs. Riddle knelt before her, two fingers pressed under her chin to lift it up.

"We won't leave you too long, Miss Granger," he promised, the purr of his voice sending shivers down her freshly healed spine. "Upon our return, Draco will be punished for his betrayal."

Hermione blinked back more tears as confusion knit her brows.

Riddle chuckled and dragged his knuckles along her jaw. "This was just a warm up," he explained. "You will both be taught a lesson before the night is through. One that you can take with you into the afterlife." He withdrew his hand and got to his feet, smirking down at her. "Be back soon."

And then she was alone.


	3. The Retribution

**The Retribution**

Hermione woke with a jolt. Panic flooded her system as she tried to move, but was only able to struggle. It took what felt like an eternity to remember she wasn't in her bed at the safe house. She was in The Dark Lord's chamber, bound, gagged, and waiting for his return. Tears prickled at her eyes again as she looked around the room. She was still alone, as far as she could tell, and she had fallen to her side from having dozed off. Her entire body was numb from the way she had landed as well as the binds Riddle had left her in.

Another round of tears began to fall as she realized she had soiled herself in her unconscious state.

Fear coursed through her, making her shake and tremble as she heard the door being opened from behind her. One of the slaves from earlier, the ones that had bathed her in the beginning, came to kneel before her. She lifted Hermione into her original kneeling position before she had tipped over and cleaned her up. However, as she looked down, she realized the only part of her that had been cleaned was the mess she'd made out of herself in her slumber.

She watched the girl walk away, retreating to the bathroom. It was when she rejoined the others, watching them fill the tub, that Hermione realized they weren't alone. There were three other women bound in a similar fashion with swathes of fabric over their eyes. They too had been stripped bare and Hermione could tell, even from this distance, they were sobbing and shaking in fear. She wondered if they had been at it so long that their tears were silent now or if a spell hadn't been cast to render them so.

Either way, she could do nothing but watch as each of them received a bath in turn. They were afforded the same care as herself only a few hours prior. The thought alone was enough to make Hermione's head spin. When they had also been scrubbed raw, the entire room smelling of jasmine and amber, they were toweled dry and moved into the room behind Hermione. She presumed the bed when she heard the tell-tale shift of a mattress, but she couldn't see behind her.

What she did see was the three slave women taking their leave of the room. Hermione's breath hitched which caused another round of tears. Whatever was happening next was starting soon. She knew the next time that door opened, it would be Riddle walking through it. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift to the reason she was here in the first place. She had to think of a way to get Riddle to let her out of the binds long enough to keep him distracted. Long enough for Draco to plant the dagger somewhere within easy reach for her or for him to do it himself if possible.

She wasn't able to dwell on her fantasies of plunging that dagger through Riddle's tarnished heart before the door opened again and _he_ walked in. Draco was close behind him looking as though nothing had happened to him. The only sign that that was far from the truth was the haunted look in his eyes and the unease on his face. Her eyes raked over his body, asking if a multitude of things. His hand brushed his side where the little pouch was and he gave what she hoped was a nod. If it was, he was telling her there was a still a means to the end.

But if she was hoping for some sort of relief, it never came.

Her gaze flickered to Riddle, finding him staring at her with eyes blackened in their hunger. "I quite like you like this, Mudblood." He chuckled at the way she struggled against her restraints and that her eyes narrowed despite her fear. "It seems I have yet to break you," he murmured. "Good."

She swallowed hard, some of her saliva dripping out from around the gag between her teeth. She felt her cheeks flame and let her eyelids flutter as she squirmed in embarrassment. When she opened her eyes again, Draco was staring at her with utter sorrow and she could see the fight in his eyes as he resisted the urge to help her. She saw him stiffen and flick his gaze to behind her where she knew the three other women were. Saw the way his throat bobbed before he returned his gaze to her. It was clear he hadn't expected anyone else to be in the room.

Knowing that made the panic coursing in her system that much more intense. Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes again as she went over the multitude of reasons Riddle would have brought others into this. She had seen situations from Draco's memories where Riddle liked to take more than one consort at a time, but with how many things had been different about tonight, Hermione could only assume the worst.

As if reading her thoughts, Riddle smirked and reached into his pocket to produce four small vials of a purple potion. "A lust potion worthy of Cupid's own arrows," he said, holding them out for Draco to take. His brow furrowed as he tried to keep from lifting up for them, but failed and snatched them from Riddle's grasp with a grunt of defeat. "One for each of you," he added, nodding his head in the direction of the women beyond Hermione's view. "Drink up."

Draco's hand shook as he tightened his grip on the vials. It was a few moments of trying hard to fight the command before he stalked across the room and out of Hermione's view. She closed her eyes the moment he was out of sight, tears clinging to her lashes as they spilled over the bottom lid.

"A special blend," Riddle said, his voice closer than it had been when Hermione closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was walking towards her. "Takes effect almost immediately. Awakens the libido and kicks it into overdrive." He smirked as he looked behind her, satisfied with whatever it was that he saw. She cast her eyes to the floor as the sounds of small, feminine moans filled the air. "And it continues to work until the heart can no longer take it."

Hermione went still, a strangled cry emitting from her throat.

He waved his hand and she felt herself spinning around. When she stopped she opened her eyes carefully and wished she hadn't. Instead of facing the door, she was now facing the bed. She had a clear line of sight to the three women who were already under the influence of the potion. They were pawing at each other like lovers while taking turns setting their attention on divesting Draco of his clothes. And as her gaze finally settled on him, it was just in time to see tip the vial to his lips and consume the purple liquid inside.

Riddle sank down to his haunches beside her and grasped her chin, forcing her to look as she started to turn away. "Now you get to watch as he takes each of them over and over again." He moved his face closer to hers, his nose brushing over the shell of her ear making her shiver and cringe at the same time. "How does it feel, Miss Granger?" he began. "To know that your lover will be fucked to death? That the last time he comes won't be with you?"

Her knees shifted forward ever so slightly as the urge to reach Draco became too great to ignore.

The action earned a pleased hum from Riddle against her skin. "I do have one antidote to counteract the damage done from such exertion," he whispered. "Think he can outlast them in a three on one match?"

The image of Draco being pulled onto the bed with the three women was forever ingrained on her mind. She closed her eyes as one woman took his cock into her mouth while the other two took turns shoving their tongues down his throat. She closed her eyes again and squirmed against her restraints.

"Only time will tell," he said. "Care to watch and find out together?"

As he asked, she felt him stand and lift her in turn. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to stop moving before she even dared to look. She was already humiliated as it was, she wasn't about to open her eyes now and risk letting her nausea take full effect. He sat down, drawing her into his lap with her back to his chest, skin to skin from him having vanished his clothes in the process, her bound wrists between them. She felt the binds on her legs give way and his length hardening against her rear. She tried not to squirm, but failed, feeling him twitch against her as she did.

A cry escaped her mouth, the sound garbled as it passed around the bar in her mouth. Her eyes snapped open at the hard pinch of something closing around one of her nipples. She looked down to see him placing a clamp around the taut peak. She followed the thin chain that connected it to a twin and cried out again as he repeated the action to her other breast. He tugged the chain making her nearly scream and then she squirmed again, earning a hum of approval that vibrated up the length of her spine.

Hermione blinked against the pain, glad that he hadn't dosed her with pink potion first. She made the mistake of letting her attention wander back to the bed. She regretted the action immediately as she saw Draco amidst the throes of passion with the three women atop the sheets. He was so enraptured in his own climax he wasn't even looking her way anymore. He was completely lost to the lust potion and it made her heart break. It was her fault they were in this mess.

She had been so engrossed in her own misery that she hadn't noticed Riddle readjust her position on his lap. She realized that she was straddling him, still facing away from him, and that her hands were now unbound, but hanging limply at her side. She barely had time to react to her new position before he tugged hard on the chain and thrust upwards until he was nestled tightly in her core.

She cried out from the pain of the clamps on her nipples and of the painful intrusion of his cock. Her body had already set up its natural defenses, allowing him to slide in with little effort; something she wasn't all too pleased with herself about. He kept one arm about her waist, fingers tugging here and there at the chain while the other dropped to her hip to keep her steady. Bile rose up her throat for a moment as she realized in this position, she would have to be the one to move.

As if her current state wasn't degrading enough.

She adjusted her position on his lap, whimpering around the bar as the movement pushed him right against _that_ spot within her. When she could, she leaned forward slightly and moaned at the friction as he surged forward to put his chest flush against her back. The hand at her hip tightened its grip and he pushed himself up. Slowly, she found her rhythm, her hips moving more in a circular motion than a rocking one. The last thing she needed was to rock too far forward and land flat on her face. While she was sure it would give Riddle great pleasure, she had no intention of letting it happen.

She bit down on the bar and continued to move, putting all of her concentration on not falling forward. She refused to focus on the sight before her. Of the way Draco switched from one woman to the next with barely enough time to catch his breath. Of the way his face would contort with every release; the grunts he would make as he spilled his seed inside of them over and over again. Nor would she let herself focus on the rough tugs Riddle would deliver to the chain. The way her body would light on fire when he did. She certainly wouldn't let herself focus on the way her body was chasing after a release of her own when Riddle's hand slipped forward to rub at her clit.

When she came, she felt as if her soul had shattered into a thousand pieces. She screamed and sobbed against the bar, her body trembling and jerking atop Riddle's lap. She barely felt him surge forward, his chest coming up flush with her back. His breath was hot against the curve of her neck as he spoke.

"One down."

His fingers were relentless, never pausing in their effort to bring send her over the edge again. Her body bowed outward, the back of her head colliding with his shoulder behind her. He groaned against her skin and she yelped as his teeth pressed down into her flesh. When he didn't mention anything about a countdown that time, panic set in and she forced herself to focus on the bed.

As cold dread swept through her system, Riddle tugged on the chain again and doubled his efforts in both the pace of his fingers and thrusting up against her. The fog in her mind cleared, if only for a moment and a tremor of fear crept up her spine at the sight of one of the women on the bed. She was on her back, unnaturally still. Her face was towards them, her eyes open and dull as they stared at her without seeing a thing.

The worst part, Hermione decided as she began to crest again, was that the other three were too caught up in one another to notice that one was no longer with them.

Hermione's gaze connected with Draco's and her heart skipped a beat as recognition shone in his eyes. It pushed her over the edge, her body squeezing hard against Riddle who grunted in turn and followed her with his own release. He held her close to him as they continued to jerk from their exertion. His teeth continued to graze against whatever part of her that he could reach. He brought his hand up from between them and the gag disappeared, only to be replaced by his fingers, the flavor of their combined slick coating her tongue.

"Half way there."

Hermione's gaze flicked towards the bed to see another girl draped across the foot of the bed, her body just as unnaturally still as the first. She swallowed around Riddle's fingers, earning a hiss from him. Her gaze moved to Draco and the last girl, completely lost to one another, but in distress.

Riddle withdrew from her mouth, strings of saliva connecting them together until he wiped the mess on her thigh. Hermione's jaw clamped closed, aching from being forced open for so long. She moaned softly as he adjusted himself beneath her, the result of their coupling sliding out past where they were still joined. A groan followed as his fingers found her clit again.

"Please." Her voice was nothing but a croaking whisper. The plea a mix between her body's demand for more and her mind wanting it to be over.

She closed her eyes to the flurry of movements that followed. She felt him lift her up, her head spinning right along with her body above him. As he sank back inside of her, her hands found their way to his chest, digging in at the force of his thrusts. Her eyes flew open in panic at the garbled sounds of pain from behind her. As she tried to turn her head to look, he pulled at the chain, drawing her forward until she was flush against him. Her lips parted at the painful pleasure that coursed through her and she inhaled sharply through a moan as he buried his face against her throat.

"Won't be long now," he murmured, breath warming her skin and making it crawl.

Anger began to overpower all other emotions. Anger at herself for coming up with this plan. Anger at Draco for letting her get her way. Anger at the way her body betrayed her, allowing Riddle's thrusts to bring her over the edge again instead of fighting harder. Anger that her mind entered such a state of bliss as Riddle made her forget about Draco, if even for a moment.

He came with a grunt before his teeth latched onto her skin again. She cried out and dug her nails into his flesh, inflicting pain of her own to him. She sagged against him, her body completely spent. Tears of frustration, anger, and misery flowed freely down her face. Riddle wrapped his arms around her as his cock softened and slipped out of her, the aftermath chasing after him and dripping over both of them.

"We have our victor."

Hermione stumbled as Riddle surged forward, placing them both of their feet. He dragged her by the hair towards the bed where Draco was stroking himself, a pained expression on his face as he watched them approach. With a snap of his fingers, the three bodies disappeared. Riddle spared only a moment before shoving her down onto the bed in their stead.

Draco surged forward to draw her close. She watched as he struggled to refrain, but couldn't help but give into the potion coursing through him as he pinned her down beneath him and sheathed himself inside of her.

"The ant-antidote," she whispered, turning her head to Riddle. Draco's breaths were shallow, as if he couldn't catch his breath. It was the same thing that she had seen in the first woman before she fell limp against the mattress and stared at Hermione with lifeless eyes. "He-"

"If he survives this last one, I will give it to him."

As Riddle spoke, she felt Draco seize above her. His skin was waxen and sweat dripped from his brow. "I can't…" he uttered, shaking his head back and forth.

More panic.

"Y-you have to," she said, reaching up to cup his face. She could barely make out his face from the amount of tears that blurred her vision, but she continued to stare up at him. "Draco, just-"

_Knock, knock, knock._

Hermione cried out as Draco collapsed on top of her, his body jerking and twisting in unnatural movements. She screamed, cried, and pleaded for Riddle to administer the antidote, begging for him to save Draco's life. She didn't care that he already told them he was going to kill them both at the end of the night. She just didn't want it to be here and now. If he did, everything they planned for would-

She gasped as Riddle yanked Draco away from her by the hair and dumped the antidote down his throat. He shoved Draco back down once he swallowed the potion, his body lying still next to her. Relief and confusion flooded her senses as she saw his breathing steadily return to normal. She hadn't expected Riddle to actually do it. Slowly, she turned to him, finding a curious expression as he studied her. His attention flickered briefly to the door as the knock sounded again. "When I come back, it will be to collect you for the ritual."

After letting his gaze linger for another moment, snapped his fingers to make his close reappear, and left the room.

* * *

Hermione's relief was short lived. Draco's breathing may have regulated, but he wasn't moving. His entire body was still, his skin lacked pigment of any kind, almost matching the platinum of his hair. In fact the more she watched, the less she saw him breathe. Panic had reared its ugly head already and she remained paralyzed with fear. The only thing she could do was watch him lay there beside her until the potion inside of her worked, at least.

The moment it did, she sprang into action. It may not have been as quick as she would have liked, but it was better than lying next to him in a state of panic. She slid off the bed, landing hard on her knees. She cried out as the chain from the clamps still on her nipples caught on the fabric of the bed. With shaking fingers, she reached up to unlatch the clamps and tossed the contraption as far away from her as she could. The pain of the air in the room hitting her aching flesh made her eyes sting with tears, but she ignored it as she searched for the Draco's clothing on the floor.

Her fingers grazed the little bag before she saw it. Frantically she separated it from the other articles of clothing and used what little bit of her magic was stored in her core to enlarge the bag. She shoved her hand inside, scrounging for the vials of potions. The first thing she touched was the hilt of the dagger. She brought it out without hesitation and set it on the bed before returning to the task at hand. She wasn't sure how much time she had left, but judging from the surprise on Riddle's face at the intrusion, it wouldn't be long.

Finding what she needed, she dropped the bag back to the floor and pushed herself up on unsteady legs. She crawled back onto the bed beside Draco and maneuvered him into her lap as best she could. One-by-one, she uncorked the vials and tipped them to his lips. Not sure which one he would need, she gave them all. She knew the risks; that if anything were to happen when she tried her part of this plan, that was it. Game over.

But as long as Riddle's death was one of the outcomes, it wouldn't matter.

She tossed the vials away, barely registering the sound of the glass shattering from elsewhere in the room. She cradled his face between her palms and stared down at him, lightly patting his cheeks in the hopes it would rouse him. She whispered his name over and over again; a prayer to call him back to her.

"I'm sorry," she added, tears spilling down and dripping onto his face as she leaned over him, rocking back and forth. "Wake up. Tell me you told me so. Please. Draco…" She would sell her soul just to see his silver eyes or hear him speak her name one last time. She sobbed harder and held him tight. "I love you, Draco. Stay with me. I can't do this without you. Please wake up. Draco, I need-"

Every single hair on her body stood at attention, letting her know she had seconds to react. She surged forward over Draco to retrieve the dagger and pushed him off of her lap as she dove to hide it under the pillows behind her. The second she returned to a sitting position next to Draco, the door opened and Riddle strode back into the room. He paused at the sight of them, his lips curved into a frown at Draco still lying where he'd left him.

"Shame," Riddle said, continuing his approach. "I was hoping to have him take a front row seat for the ritual." His hand rose and Draco's body lifted with it. Hermione watched as he floated through the hair, landing on the seat she had been on with Riddle not too long ago. "No matter, if he is still alive after I will deal with him then."

Hermione jumped as he slid into view, severing her line of sight on Draco. He extended the same hand that had transported him and crooked his fingers at her. Her eyes widened and her body trembled even more as she stared at it, her gaze slowly dragging up to connect with his again.

"Now, Mudblood."

Slowly, she shuffled forward on her knees. She placed her hand in his, but instead of using it to get to her feet, she tugged him closer and placed her other hand on his chest, her fingers toying with the button. He went completely still at her actions, his eyes darkened, and she felt his heart stutter beneath her touch. She swallowed hard as she stared up at him through her lashes, forcing her brain to shut off so she could do what she came here for.

"Does it have to be right away?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Time waits for no man."

She let her lips curve upwards, putting on her best seductive smile as her hand pushed upwards to the collar of his shirt. "But you aren't a man," she said, her other hand joining the first to undo the buttons down his shirt.

"What am I?"

A monster.

"A god," she purred, hands sliding up his chest, pushing the shirt from his shoulders.

He grabbed her wrists, the shirt hanging at his elbows. "Not yet."

She gave a slow nod, pressing against his hold in effort to glide her hands back down his chest to the fly of his trousers. He let go, the shirt falling to the floor at his feet. "You want power," she said, her lashes fluttering slightly as she wet her lips. "And you want me."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but she saw the way he clenched his jaw and the extra breath he took as the teeth of his zipper gave way, the sound echoing around them. "How unfortunate I cannot have one without the other." His voice was nothing but a hiss as her hand dipped behind the fabric to grasp his hardened shaft. She drew him out and pumped him steadily, using the moisture that wept from his slit to quicken her pace.

"Then have me," she whispered, leaning in, using one hand on his chest to brace herself. "One more time to tide you over for the rest of eternity." She tightened her grip on him as he thrust against her palm. "Before I'm gone forever."

She watched the debate in his eyes; wondering if having her one more time was worth delaying the ritual. She brought the hand on his chest up until it was lightly wrapped around his neck. She pulled him forward and stretched herself until the gap between them disappeared and their lips sealed together. Her eyes stayed open for a moment to steal a glance at Draco and she squeezed them shut against the worry that rose from his unchanged demeanor.

Riddle removed her other hand from his cock and pushed her back until she was lying on the bed, her head on the pillows. He removed the rest of his clothes and crawled over her, nipping at her skin as he went. He slid into her with ease, an action that both surprised and appalled her. She wasn't sure if it was her body reacting to the current tryst or if the lack of resistance was from their last one. Either way, her body bowed upwards, molding to his as if she belonged there.

He reached for her hands, bringing them one by one over her head until he could hold them with one of his; the other hand bracing himself as he continued to thrust. She shut her eyes and imagined it was Draco above her. That the darkened grey eyes were silver. That the last thing she saw was platinum blond hair instead of dark curls. That the fingers squeezing her wrist belonged to Draco. She bit her tongue to keep from calling his name as she crested again, falling into a void of pleasure. Even as her eyes opened afterwards, she still pictured it was Draco above her.

She tugged on her wrists and summoned what strength she had left to roll them. She was surprised when he allowed her to complete the move, putting her on top. She leaned forward, one hand on his jaw, her thumb on his bottom lip as she took control by moving her hips over him. She waited until she could feel him pulsing and twitching within her in need for release before her other hand moved slowly towards the dagger under the pillow. She let herself come again as she grasped the hilt, wanting to be in as much control as she could be.

His hands tightened on her hips as he took over, thrusting up furiously as he chased his own release. As his pupils went wide and he stilled, his seed spilling inside of her, she drew the dagger out and made her move.

A scream rent the air and it took her a moment to realize it was her own.

Her breathing was labored as she sat up straight, staring down at Riddle. He was still lodged inside of her as he stared up at her with a murderous rage in his eyes. Something wet and warm dripped down from just below her ribs and as she looked down, she saw what it was. The dagger was buried to the hilt in her torso. Large streams of blood flowed freely down her skin, pooling where their bodies were joined. Her hands were covered in her own ichor from having tried to prevent losing in the scuffle.

Unable to keep herself upright, she slumped forward. Instead of landing on Riddle's chest, he flipped them over, putting her on her back. He was no longer inside of her; instead, he was sitting on her thighs, staring down at her with contempt. She cried out weakly as he removed the dagger and tossed it aside.

"Your death was supposed to mean something, Miss Granger."

Her eyes flickered over his shoulder, her breath hitching at what she saw. With tears in her eyes, she looked back at Riddle and whispered, "It will."

Before he could react, Draco brought the dagger down, the tip of it protruding out of Riddle's chest. Right through his heart. Blood trickled from the wound as she saw the realization of his death reach his eyes. His lips parted to say something else, but the light dimmed in his eyes and he slid off of her. By the time he landed on the bed beside her, his body was already starting to decay.

"Hermione-" Draco's voice was distorted as he reached for her with trembling arms.

"We did it," she muttered, her words sounding slurred to her own ears. "I love you," she added, whispering it over and over again as he wrapped his arms around her. She heard him, but nothing he said reached her ears as her eyes fluttered closed and consciousness escaped her.

* * *

Draco's panic kicked into overdrive as Hermione closed her eyes. He shook her by the shoulder and screamed her name, but nothing he did roused her. With tears in his eyes, he looked down at the spot where he had watched the Dark Lord shove the dagger into. He had been slowly regaining control of his body and was trying to judge when it would be best to make his move.

It wasn't until he heard her scream that he realized it was too late.

He pressed his fingers against her neck and wept with relief at the feel of her pulse. Even if it was sluggish, it was still there. There was still a chance. He kept wanting to reaching for the potions, remembering each time that she had used them on him. Each time, cursing the both of them for not bringing more.

He knew that if he didn't leave soon, the Death Eaters would find him. They would kill him sight on scene once they discovered their leader dead. He wanted to take Hermione away from this room, but from the extent of her injuries, she wouldn't survive Apparition.

Instead, he shifted her into a better position in his arms and lifted her from the bed. He brought her down to the floor with him so that he wouldn't have to look at the Dark Lord's dead body while he said his goodbyes. He rested his back against the bed and drew his knees up to keep her from sliding forward. He had one hand cupping the back of her head while the other brushed hair from her face.

"Draco?"

"I'm here," he assured her, his fingers stroking her cheek over and over again.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Her lashes fluttered and more tears spilled from his eyes as her gaze settled on his. "I love you."

His entire body trembled as he cataloged the way that sounded. "I love you too."

She shivered in his hold and he summoned a blanket to drape over them. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice nothing but a croaking whisper.

He shifted so that her head was resting on his shoulder. He tipped her head back enough so he could pillow their lips together, lingering until she dropped her head back to his shoulder. "Once everything settles, we're getting married."

"No proposal?"

He smoothed his hand down her curls before twisting his family crest from his hand. He lifted her hand and slid the ring on her finger, tears slipping from his cheeks to her skin. "Better?"

"Yes."

He pressed his lips to her temple and held her tight, his heart thumping wildly as she relaxed against him. He choked back a sob as her hand went slack in his and her breathing slowed. "Everyone will be there," he continued. "You're going to be thrice as beautiful as you always are."

"Hermione Malfoy," she whispered, testing it out.

He dragged his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering so much. "Hermione Malfoy," he repeated, his voice cracking.

He heard her draw in a sharp breath and relaxed even more. "I'm scared."

He tightened his hold and dropped his chin to the top of her head. "I'm right here. I've got you."

"Draco…"

"I will love you until the end of time and as far beyond as the gods allow me," he said, using the line she said to him every time they parted ways. "We'll see each other again," he promised. "And I will still love you then too. I'll never stop loving you, Hermione."

It took him a moment to realize that she was no longer with him. That she had succumbed to her injuries before he had finished speaking. He held her tight and begged for her to come back, losing himself in his grief.

It wasn't until he had nothing left to cry out that he pulled himself together. He set her down on the ground gently before he used his wand to clean them both up. When their bodies no longer reflected the horror the Dark Lord had put them through for the last few hours, he redressed them and held her once more before taking his leave of that wretched room.

He allowed himself to feel the tiniest bit of success as he Apparated them back to her safehouse. Had the Dark Lord not truly been dead, he would have been torn to shreds upon trying that method of escape. As it was, he landed in her room and set her on the bed. If he didn't know any better, he would think she was only sleeping. He pressed a kiss to her lips before covering her completely with the blanket.

The Weasley patriarch, his old professor, and Kingsley all stood from their seats at the table when he stepped into view. "It's done," he said, his voice clipped.

The three of them exchanged looks before three sets of eyes became glassy. "What now?" Arthur asked.

"We make sure Hermione's death wasn't in vain. That Voldemort never sees the light of day again," he said, staring at each of them in turn. "Spread the word."

Sensing the finality in his tone and that he needed to be alone, they took their leave.

After a complete breakdown right where he stood, Draco got back to his feet and made his way upstairs again. That night, under the light of the moon, he dug a grave and laid Hermione to rest.

The dawn brought a new era, one full of hope. Hermione would want him to do whatever he could to ensure that it came to fruition. It wasn't until the first rays of the sunrise colored the sky that he finally had the strength to turn away and head back to the safehouse, vowing that he wouldn't let her down.

That when they met again in the afterlife as he promised, she would be proud of the legacy he left in her honor.


End file.
